


all I've got to do is climb the ladder to you

by adamantine



Category: Free!
Genre: (a few other characters have cameos), Alternate Universe, M/M, Musicians, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Classical) Musician AU. Haru and Rin are university students studying piano performance. Haru is failing Music Theory when Rin is asked to tutor him. They eventually form a fragile friendship, but can they sort out their baggage and figure out what this relationship means to them before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I've got to do is climb the ladder to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulsInAshes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulsInAshes/gifts).



> As a former musician this was interesting to write. It brought back a lot of memories even though I rarely didn't play as part of an ensemble (unlike Haru and Rin playing for an audience by myself makes me shake in terror). I hope you enjoy this even though I didn't stick them in a band (I couldn't shake the image of Haru as one of those piano prodigy kids). I linked to YouTube performances of the pieces mentioned in the end notes.

Blood pounded through his head. The audience clapped.

“Haruka-kun, that’s your cue.” A friendly smile urged him forward. He stumbled.

He looked into the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but the lights blinded him, made his eyes water. He gave up.

He sat down at a shining piano. The auditorium grew quiet, waited for him to fill the room with sound.

He’d been playing since before he could even reach the pedals. A day he didn’t touch the piano meant he was sick in bed. It would be fine. _Don’t let them get to you._

“Nanase wins everything. There’s no point in even entering.”

Haru had been standing there in the hallway on his way back from the vending machines when he’d heard the voices.

“You know he once told me he doesn’t care about competitions? Easy to say when you’re the one always winning.”

“It must be nice being a prodigy.”

“I wish he would just quit. Give the rest of us a chance if you don’t even like it.”

“My mom said people like him never last. They burn out.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The voices snickered.

It wasn’t the first time his talent had inspired bitterness and it wouldn’t be the last, he was sure, but it still rattled to hear how much his peers resented him. He recognized a few of the voices. They’d never been anything but pleasant around him. He would have never guessed they hated him.

Their laughter echoed in his mind as he began to play. It was hot under the stage lights; he was sweating. The keys were stiff, each note was a struggle to get out. He pressed them harder. Too hard. Loud and clunky sounds filled the auditorium as he smashed through the piece.

He couldn’t feel any connection the music, to the piano in front of him. The light within him was extinguished. The pull, the understanding was gone. He was a broken, soulless thing. A doll pushing keys mechanically.

He stopped, his hands hovering over the keys. The piece was nearly over. He could keep going. Be penalized but not kicked out.

He let his arms drop to his sides.

The audience began to murmur. It was a faraway sound; voices he could not understand underwater. Someone pulled him up and took him off stage. They gripped his arm painfully. He passed by the next contestant. She was smirking.

“I don’t want to play piano anymore,” was all he said on the car ride home. His parents didn’t argue.

* * *

 

Rin was a bundle of nerves. This was the third and final school he was auditioning for but he wasn’t any calmer for it. It was hard to get a feel for what the judges were thinking. They’d rush him through a piece, asking him to skip to this or that part, and then abruptly make him to stop and play the next piece instead. And again they would stop him. Ask him to play the ending bars of another piece. Before he had a chance to feel comfortable they were shoving him out the door.

What did it mean when they heard only a few minutes of a piece before stopping him? Was it a sign he was so awful they couldn’t stand to hear more of him fumbling at the keys? Or did it mean they heard enough to know he wasn’t a total disaster and therefore worthy to pursue music at their hallowed institution? His high school band teacher told him it was normal. They didn’t have enough time to listen to everything. It did little to reassure him.

A girl exited the audition room, carrying a clarinet case and looking frazzled. A man called out for the next candidate.

“Matsuoka Rin,” he said.

“That’s me.” Rin jumped up from his chair and followed him into the room, his heart pounding. He gave a quick glance of acknowledgment to the judges before sitting down at the piano. He wiped his palms on his pants and waited for their instructions. Just like every other school they stopped him, made him skip around, and then rushed him out of the room, leaving him dazed and confused as hurried his thanks at them.

He scurried to the bathroom. As a child he’d entered dozens competitions and even studied abroad for a bit; he was no stranger to auditions. The nerves, the fear he was used to, but the frustration from lack of feedback was new. While he washed his hands he saw himself in the mirror looking more tired than any 17-year-old had the right to be, skin sallow, dark circles under his eyes. Months of doing nothing but studying for entrance exams and preparing for auditions did that to a person.

He passed by the audition room on his way to the exit. He froze at the sound of someone playing “The Tempest.” It was one of his own audition pieces. He’d heard and practiced it hundreds of times by now. He knew everything about it. But until this moment he hadn’t understood the full range of emotions in it, hadn’t seen all of its beauty. He was hearing what the piece was supposed to sound like. Beethoven himself had popped out of his grave to audition for a Japanese music school.

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind him.

“Ah, sorry.”

He moved out of the way to let a cello player pass through. As much as he wanted to stay and listen to the pianist’s entire audition, he was blocking the hallway and bringing himself unwanted attention.

He dragged himself away, vowing he would go to this school if it accepted him. It was his only shot at meeting that pianist again. Someone that talented probably had the pick of any school in the country, if not the world, but he had a strange feeling this would be the one they would choose.

* * *

 

It will be easy money, they said. Like you’re getting get paid to study, they said.

What a load of bullshit.

Well, maybe that was unfair. The first few months after he was talked into working as a tutor were uneventful. Most people weren’t that bad — a little struggling here and there about some theory concept, maybe wanting some guidance about an assignment — nothing he couldn’t handle as a star student (in theory and composition at least).

Then came Nanase Haruka.

Nanase was a bit different from Rin’s other pupils. Like Rin, he was a second year piano performance major but their similarities ended there because unlike Rin, he was a stubborn, unteachable ass who was failing Music Theory III. How he had passed Music Theory I & II, Rin had no idea. Pity from his professors? Bribery? Some kind of miracle pencil that helped him ace exams? Because as far as Rin could tell, Nanase hadn’t soaked in any information from them. Rin’s dog could probably do a better job explaining counterpoint than Nanase could.

But the worst part was, Nanase wasn’t even remotely humbled or worried about the situation. The way he argued with Rin about nearly everything, digging in his heels when he was convinced he was right, made it seem like he would rather fail than admit he needed Rin’s help. That was the other thing that was different about Nanase: he didn’t seek out Rin’s tutoring on his own — Haru’s professor had required it of him. He was also rapidly becoming Rin’s only pupil as he scheduled more and more sessions with Nanase in a desperate attempt to drill three courses worth of music theory into his head.

It wasn’t working.

“No, that’s not what I said.” It was third time he’d tried explaining a concept to Nanase only to have him ignore him and try to do it the way he wanted. He was losing his temper. It wasn’t possible for anyone to be this stupid — Nanase had to be deliberately testing him. Maybe he was a mole one of Rin’s professors had planted to gauge his teaching skills. If that was the case, Rin was failing miserably. Nanase had a way of getting under his skin until he was snapping at him with all the condescension he could muster which was certainly not appropriate tutor behavior.

“Time’s up,” said Nanase.

“Already? Shit.” That was another thing Nanase did that was annoying. He refused to start or end early — only doing the exact time Rin had set out beforehand — and watched the clock like a hawk to keep from being duped into studying more than he had to.

“Tomorrow, let’s meet — how about from 3:00 to 4:00?” Rin had no desire to see Nanase again so soon but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. They’d barely made any progress this week.

“What? You saw me yesterday too.” Nanase was outraged.

“Well, you still suck, so.” Even if it was true, Rin felt mildly embarrassed at himself for saying it. A feeling that died with Nanase’s response.

“You’re just a bad teacher.”

“You never listen to me!” A few people in the tutoring center turned to stare at them. Great. He was going to get fired and it was all Nanase’s fault.

“Theory is stupid.”

“Theory is required for our major,” Rin said through gritted teeth.

“Whatever. 3:00 to 4:00 is fine.”

“Great,” he said without remotely meaning it, “See you then.”

Nanase didn’t bother to respond before taking off at light speed to whatever dark cavern he lurked in while plotting Rin’s downfall.

Their three o’clock lesson didn’t go much better but at least Rin could say Nanase was now on the verge of passing the Music Theory I exam. Of course, he’d already done that somehow. Rin still didn’t have a good explanation for how, but it had happened. He’d made it to Music Theory III. Sheer dumb luck? A Freaky Friday switcheroo? A clerical error? Something didn’t add up.

After three straight days of Nanase, he needed a break. He was going to spend the afternoon practicing, indulging himself in daydreams about a 100% Nanase-free utopia. No stress headaches for Rin today. Everything was beautiful.

He looked for an open practice room and stopped in his tracks when he saw the figure of his nightmares pounding away at a piano. He hesitated. The right thing to do was run away and lock himself up in a practice room far, far away from Nanase. But his stupid curiosity wanted to know what in the world Nanase was doing; he looked possessed. The practice rooms were nice and soundproof with thick glass doors and being able to see but not hear what was happening in that room painted a strange picture.

Screw it, Rin thought. He wanted to know what Nanase was up to.

“What are you doing here?” Nanase asked, glaring, when Rin opened the door.

“Way to welcome a guy.”

Nanase narrowed his eyes even further.

“Relax. I was just curious. I’ve never heard you play before.”

Nanase seemed satisfied with his answer. “Fine. But don’t talk,” he said.

Rin sat in a chair off to the side, his eyes on Nanase’s profile as he began playing what Rin now was able to recognize as the world’s angriest rendition of Prokofiev’s “Suggestion Diabolique.” The piece was terrifying enough on its own, but somehow Nanase was infusing it with a frantic rage that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Nanase was argumentative and irritating but even at his most fed up and angry he maintained a cool, detached air. His behavior gave off the impression Rin was beneath him, a nuisance that didn’t know his place. It was part of why he aggravated Rin so much.

Hearing Nanase almost destroy the piano in front of him in real, righteous anger was a shock to his system. He was thrilled to know Nanase had these types of emotions simmering underneath the surface. Was it possible Nanase was as frustrated as Rin was by how much he was struggling in school? Maybe, but the emotions in his playing were stronger than that. It dawned on him that he didn’t know Nanase very well. Rin had unfairly assumed he was a poor student through and through and that was why they never shared classes with each other. In reality he was likely in far more advanced practical classes than Rin. What else about Nanase was he wrong about?

When Nanase finished playing a heavy silence filled the room. Rin’s entire perception of him had changed, leaving him stunned and unsure of what to say. He was embarrassed by how much he’d misjudged him.

“I know it wasn’t the best, I really rushed the ending. You don’t have to—“ Nanase began.

“Holy shit, that was amazing.” Rin was already leaping off his chair, startling Nanase, who had been staring nervously at his lap. He grabbed Nanase’s hands, yanking him slightly upwards. “How can you play that fast? And, shit, I’ve never heard someone play that angry before. I thought you were going to break a string. And here I thought your playing would be as shit as your theory skills. But it’s not, you’re actually amazing. Why didn’t you say something? I think I know how to teach you now.” As Rin prattled on, Nanase’s face went from alarmed to horrified.

“Let go of me,” he snapped.

“Ah, sorry. I got too excited,” Rin said sheepishly. “You’re the reason I love music. Well, not you specifically, but players like you.” He stopped himself before he could say something even more awkward.

“I’m not that great.” Nanase looked off to the side as he spoke, his face slightly flushed.

“Play a duet with me,” Rin blurted out. “It doesn’t have to be with two pianos. I’m a pretty good violin player too you know. I’ve almost been playing it as long as the piano. Oh, and I played trumpet in high school. We could do something jazzy if that’s more your thing.”

“No,” said Nanase.

“More old school after all? No problem, you can pick the music—“

“I said no. As in, no I will not play a duet with you.”

“What about a small ensemble? I know a few people that would be happy to join us.”

“No duets, no trios, no quartets, no quintets, no ensembles, no nothing. I only play solo.” He turned his back to Rin and clenched his fists.

“You can play a solo if you want.” What was Nanase’s problem?

“Solo as in alone. Without others. By myself.”

Rin snorted. He should have known Nanase would think playing with others wasn’t worthy of his time. He couldn’t make anything easy for Rin. Unfortunately for him Rin was persistent when he really wanted something and right now he was determined to play a song with Nanase or die trying.

“Hmmm. We’ll see about that.”

* * *

“No,” said Nanase when they bumped into each other between class. Rin grinned; he was definitely making progress. Five days in and Nanase’s “no’s” were already losing their bite. No one could resist the charm of Matsuoka Rin, not even Grumpyface McLoner.

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Actually, I was going to ask if our tutoring session could be in a practice room today.”

“Why?” Nanase asked suspiciously.

“I told you I had an idea about how to teach you.” Rin said sincerely.

“Fine.”

Rin’s hunch was right. The reason Nanase struggled to grasp theory was because he needed to try out concepts for himself. No amount of explanation or demonstrations by others could made an impression on him. He was someone that needed to try things for himself. He wasn’t as clueless as Rin had thought he was either. If he had to guess it seemed like Nanase had picked up piano by himself, probably playing songs by ear before learning the basics of reading music and stopping there. It was a miracle he’d gone an entire year of school without anyone noticing. Though then again, he did pass his theory classes before. He pestered him about it and got a somewhat satisfying explanation: Nanase was really good at memorization, something that helped him learn new pieces of music and cram for tests. But memorization wasn’t learning and his Theory III teacher had noticed how he struggled to explain concepts even as he parroted them back at her. Rin was the first person to notice the full extent of his ignorance.

As the end of the semester neared, Nanase passing Music Theory III no longer seemed like an impossibility. More than that, Rin thought he might actually do _well_ on his final exam. It was a shocking turnaround that warranted some kind of medal on Rin’s part.

“Nanase?”

It was their last tutoring session before Nanase took his final exam and probably their final session ever. Next semester he would have a different teacher and would no longer be required to meet with Rin. It made him a little sad, especially since Haru still refused to play a duet with him.

“Yes?” He shoved his books into his backpack.

“I was wondering… I have a recital on Saturday. Well, no, it’s not my recital. I’m just one performer in it. It’s the—“

“Student Recital, right?” Nanase answered for him.

“Yeah. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d want to watch me play. Unless you’re performing? I didn’t see your name.”

“No.”

“Okay. Thought I’d ask—“

“No, as in I’m not performing. But yes, I’ll go.”

“Really?” He felt like jumping.

“Really, Rin. See you on Saturday.” He started to walk off.

Rin. Rin? Did he just say Rin?

“See you Saturday, Haruka!” Rin called out after him.

He stopped and made a face. For a moment Rin worried he had overstepped his bounds. Maybe he’d used Rin accidentally? Shit. But it was something else.

“Just ’Haru’ is fine.”

“Gotcha. See ya, Haru.”

When Haru was gone, he broke out into a huge, stupid grin and spun around a few times, almost knocking over his next pupil in his happiness.

“Sorry, Nitori,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry, Matsuoka-senpai. I didn’t know you were taking dance classes too.”

“What? Oh right. Yeah. I take dance.” (Not true.)

“What’s wrong, Senpai? Do you have a fever?”

“It’s the heat. Nothing to worry about. Let’s make sure you pass that final.”

* * *

The auditorium was moderately full. Not a packed house, but not as empty as Haru thought it would be. A Student Recital happened at least twice a semester and was done more for the benefit of getting performance experience than anything else.

“How about we sit over there?” asked Makoto, pointing to an empty section on his right.

“Okay,” Haru replied.

When they were seated Haru scanned through the program, looking for Rin’s name. He found it on the second page.

> Mazurka No. 1 in G minor, Op. 21 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Camille Saint-Saëns_
> 
> Matsuoka Rin

“Anxious?” asked Makoto.

He narrowed his eyes. “No. Why would I be?”

Makoto chuckled. “It wasn’t an accusation, don’t worry. It’s just… being in an auditorium like this must bring back memories.”

“Not really,” said Haru, “I never sat in the audience.”

“That’s true.” He let the subject drop.

They’d never talked about the reason why Haru had quit playing piano, or even why he had started it up again but it wasn’t difficult for Makoto to understand that there was something about performing that had set Haru off. What he didn’t know about was all the anger and bitterness Haru’s performances had inspired in his peers and how it had slowly crushed his spirit until just looking at piano filled him with dread. It had taken him years to let go of his anxiety and start playing again and even more time until he could handle letting others listen to him. And even then it was only a few close friends (like Makoto) he ever played for. Though in Makoto’s specific case Haru sometimes wondered if his fast progress on piano was why Makoto had quit playing cello when they were eight, but he knew if he asked Makoto would deny it, so he kept his worries to himself.

He knew, of course, he couldn’t run from his fears forever considering he was a piano _performance_ major. Performances were required if he wanted to graduate. Makoto had been surprised enough when he’d reveled he was applying to a music school, even more more so when he’d found out it meant Haru would be performing again. But Haru hadn’t wanted to talk about his change of heart, in part because he wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision. Outside of class, Rin was the first new person he’d played in front of in years. His anxiety had gone on overdrive at first, but as he kept playing it had gone away. He’d thought his fears were finally conquered but when Rin hadn’t said anything an even deeper anxiety had set in: maybe he wasn’t really anything special at all. That had scared him more than being a source of envy did. He was shocked and disgusted with himself but he couldn’t deny that deep down he wanted to be special. Rin's praise had validated him in a way no trophy could do. But then Rin had said he wanted to play with Haru, throwing him off once again. He didn’t play with other people. It was a foreign concept to him.

_But maybe if it’s with Rin it won’t be so bad._

After what felt like hundreds of performances, it was Rin’s turn to take the stage.

“Is that him?” Makoto asked.

Haru nodded. He almost looked like a different person in his formal clothes and his hair pushed back, but he was still unmistakably Rin with the way excitement seemed to roll off of him. Rin wasn't someone that could hide his emotions.

The piece he played fun and playful; it suited him. It was meant to be danced to. Haru swayed in his seat. Makoto smiled at him but he didn’t notice, he was too focused on Rin’s playing. Rin bounced as he played. Haru wondered what kind of sight he was seeing, what kind of image he was painting in his mind. The emotions he gave off were happy but there was an occasional feeling of reluctance. Why?

When he was done, Haru was the first to clap, something that didn’t escape Makoto’s notice. He gave him a curious look. Haru ignored him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He shouldn’t have brought Makoto along with him. He didn’t want to be scrutinized, not now when he was having trouble understanding his own self lately.

He barely paid attention to the rest of the recital. A small crowd of students mingled near the stage when it was over, laughing and joking with each other and congratulating those that had performed. Haru searched for Rin’s familiar red hair, Makoto still watching him in a way that made him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

Rin found them instead.

“Haru!”

“Rin?”

“Over here!” He was on the opposite side of the room (of course). A tall, dark haired boy and a girl with red hair more shocking than Rin’s stood with him.

“Hey. I’m glad you could make it,” said Rin. He was glowing.

“Yeah,” Haru replied, suddenly conscious of how little he knew Rin. He was just Rin’s pupil, not his friend, not like these people in front of him that had known exactly where to meet up. He was an interloper in their gathering; he wanted to leave.

“This is my little sister, Gou. She’s a music history major but she also plays flute.”

“I’m not very good, not like Rin who could probably play any instrument if you give him a few weeks to practice.” Haru liked her instantly.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the famous Nanase Haruka. You should hear the way Rin keeps going on about you—“

“And this is my best friend, Sousuke,” Rin interrupted her, pointing at the dark haired boy. Sousuke’s only form of greeting was to nod. Haru could respect that.

Makoto coughed. _Right._

“This is my friend Makoto. He doesn’t go to school here.”

“Nice to meet you…” Makoto trailed off.

“You can call me Rin if I can call you Makoto.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“So Haru has friends, huh? I’m surprised.”

Haru narrowed his eyes.

“Haha, well we’ve know each other practically our whole lives.”

“So you’re stuck with him is what you’re saying?”

“Well, no…” Makoto said, not catching Rin’s teasing tone.

“You’re one to talk, Rin,” said Sousuke, speaking for the first time since they’d gotten there. When Makoto and Haru looked at him puzzled he continued on, “We’ve know each other since elementary school. We met when Rin picked up violin.”

“Oh, so you play violin then?” Makoto asked politely.

“I do, but not seriously anymore. Tenosynovitis.” He gestured at his wrist.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I study the business side of the industry now.”

“I played cello when Haru-chan and I were children but I wasn’t very good. Now I’m studying to be a teacher.”

“Haru-chan?” Rin mouthed.

“Shut up,” Haru mouthed back.

“A teacher? How sweet,” said Gou. “Rin is aiming for the same thing. But a music teacher of course.”

“You want to be a teacher?” Haru asked. That was a surprise.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Rin said. He didn’t look Haru in the eye.

“You don’t want to be a professional musician?”

“I’m not really cut out for it.”

“Why would think that? You play well.” Rin was captivating on stage. There was a real star quality to him, something not everyone had. He looked like he enjoyed every moment up there and the audience had loved him. They were in one of the strongest piano programs in country; it was utterly bizarre that Rin didn’t plan on pursuing a career in music.

“Seeing me play one piece doesn’t qualify you as a judge of my abilities.”

“So your passion is teaching, not playing?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

Makoto shifted uncomfortably. “Haru—“

“What do you know? You don’t even know me.”

“Anyone could see you loved being on that stage.”

“So what? I don’t have your talent, Haru. I’m happier helping people like you become better players than I could be.”

“People like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now now, I think we should all take a moment to breathe.” Makoto put a hand on Haru’s shoulder.

“People with inborn talent. You have something the rest of us can’t achieve even if we practiced for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s a load of bullshit. Why do you want to play a duet with me if you think you’re some talentless hack?” He pushed away Makoto’s hand. His body filled with anger.

“That’s not what I said. I’m just never going to—“

“I thought you were different, Rin. But you’re just like the rest of them after all.” His skin crawled. He was disgusted with Rin.

“What the hell?” Rin began, but he interrupted him.

“I passed my final exam. This means we’re finally free from having to see each other. Have a nice life. We’re leaving now, Makoto.” He turned on his heels and stalked out of the auditorium, fuming.

All this time he’d thought Rin had seen something in his playing that no one else had been able to, something that had inspired him. But instead he'd given him the same load of bullshit about natural talent being some gulf normal people couldn’t surpass. Fuck him.

“That was really rude, Haru.”

“Someone had to tell him.”

“No they didn’t. It’s not your place to decide his career for him.”

Haru stopped and watched Makoto carefully. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with teaching, Makoto. It’s important. Without good teachers we wouldn’t get anywhere. But Rin… it won’t fulfill him, not when he’s aching to keep playing.” He meant it sincerely. If Rin had told him he wanted to be a teacher when they’d first met he’d have thought nothing of it. But now that he knew Rin a little more he could see he was choosing that path out of selling himself short and not because of a deep love of teaching. He wasn’t like Makoto with his infinite patience and love to nurture. He was short-tempered and obliviously charged ahead without regard to others feelings.

“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“What?”

“Not once have you told me you want to become a professional pianist. You haven’t even performed for an audience since middle school. But the way you’re talking about Rin sounds like you understand exactly what it feels like to want to keep playing.”

“I… this isn’t about me. It’s about Rin throwing away his future for no reason.”

Makoto looked at him and sighed. “When you invited me to this recital I was surprised. What kind of person could get you to return to this world you despise? But now I can see it’s more complicated than that. Why did you quit Haru?”

“Stop making this about me.”

“Fine. Why did you agree to watch Rin perform?”

“Because he asked.”

“Would you have come if someone else had asked you? Or was it because it was Rin?”

Haru squirmed. “Why does it matter?”

“It matters because I hope you realize you couldn’t look away from Rin the entire time he was playing.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

Makoto paled. “I’m sorry, Haru. I wasn’t trying to imply anything. Just… you should apologize to Rin. Maybe.” He didn’t push Haru any further.

“I won’t. He should apologize to me.” Even as Haru said it, he knew it sounded absurd. Makoto was right of course. It was starting to sink in how much he’d screwed things up with Rin. What had he done? And why?

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the train station, Haru shoving down his growing horror as the night’s events sank in. Before he got off at his stop, he promised to go out and eat with Makoto when their exams were done.

His chest hurt. He wanted to go home and sleep.

* * *

“What an asshole,” Sousuke said as the two of them packed into a cab. After Haru had stormed off Sousuke, Gou, and Rin had gone out to “celebrate” Rin’s successful recital. It wasn’t much of a celebration. Rin had been too pissed to really enjoy himself, souring the mood even further after drinking Sousuke’s beer. It made him snippy, lowering his ability to shut up and keep bad thoughts to himself. Gou left early, claiming she didn’t want to miss the last train. Sousuke and Rin should have done the same but Rin had been too busy muttering on about Haru, and now they were wasting money on a cab. The cherry on top of a shitty night.

“He used to argue with me all the damn time about theory even though he didn’t fucking know shit about it. What a jackass.” Rin stumbled into the cab after him.

“I meant the driver that just ran a red light. But yeah, Nanase seems like a real douche too.”

“He is. He seemed nice but he’s not. He’s a judgmental prick.”

“Sounds about right.”

“So what if I want to teach? Didn’t he say his friend was going to be a teacher? What the fuck is wrong with teaching? Prick.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I like teaching. It’s not bad. What does he expect? For me to live in poverty chasing after some delusional dream?”

“Right.”

“He doesn’t have any fucking common sense. You get me, right?”

Sousuke’s silence said it all.

“Oh fuck off. You agree with him.” Rin couldn’t believe it. If anyone could understand where Rin was coming from it was Sousuke. Dreams were impractical in the face of reality. It was something they’d both learned the hard way. Supporting yourself with music wasn’t easy and even if you got there your career could be over in an instant.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not agreeing with me, are you?”

“If my hand wasn’t fucked I wouldn’t be studying what I do, that’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s all you’re saying? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Look, I don’t know what’s Nanase’s deal, he was out of line and frankly has zero social skills, but he got one thing right: I don’t think teaching gives you the same joy being on stage does. Why the fuck are you a performance major, Rin?”

Rin’s anger went cold. How long had Sousuke been judging his choices, silently thinking Rin was making a mistake? Sousuke was supposed to be his friend. Friends didn’t have to support each others choices — that was fine — but if they didn’t, they would say something, not just passively look on in condescension. Fuck him. Rin didn’t need this right now.

“Because it’s the last time I’ll get this chance. Once I graduate it’s over. You of all people should understand.” Venom dripped from his words.

“Fuck you, Rin, I don’t. I didn’t get to say goodbye to playing. One day I just couldn’t anymore.”

All at once the fight drained from Rin. Sousuke had been devastated when he’d gotten the news he'd never be able to play seriously without triggering pain. There was no choice for Sousuke. Rin was an asshole to compare their situations.

The cab driver coughed. They’d arrived in front of Sousuke’s apartment building, which was only a short distance away from Rin’s place. They paid the driver and he took off, leaving them there to stand awkwardly on the sidewalk. Rin knew any apology he could say would fall flat while Sousuke was still fuming.

“I hope when you sober up you’re less of an asshole,” Sousuke said as a way of parting. At least they’d stopped in front of his building so Rin didn’t have to feel guilty about Sousuke getting lost on the way home.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, kicking the ground. In one night he’d gone and pissed off almost everyone he cared about. Even Gou had gotten tired of his shitty attitude and left early. The only people left to piss off were his mom and grandma.

 _I thought you were different, Rin._ Haru’s words replayed in his head.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just a cowardly piece of shit.”

* * *

Rin spent his summer vacation moping around, not sure if he was more pissed off at Haru or himself for his wretched mood. He apologized profusely to Sousuke and Gou and while they forgave him easily (it wasn’t the first time he’d made an ass of himself, unfortunately) he still felt bad about his callous treatment of Sousuke’s injury.

He was glad when the new semester rolled around. He was ready for a fresh start and a chance to move on from Haru. His private instructor this semester was Amakata Miho, a former child prodigy known for her downright encyclopedic knowledge of classical music. Not only could she tell you the name of any piece and its composer, she could spout background information on it too — why they wrote it, how, its impact on history, etc. Gou idolized her. So did practically everyone else — she was a well-known and well-regarded teacher at the university. Private instruction from her was a huge deal.

When he arrived for his lesson with Amakata he was surprised to see they were in one of the larger two piano rooms. It was entirely possible she planned on playing alongside him (why) or that it was simply the only available room (sure, that sounded believable). Nothing out of the ordinary here.

“Matsuoka-kun, welcome. I hope you don’t mind but another student will be joining us.”

“Oh?” There was always a catch, wasn’t there?

“He spoke highly of your tutoring skills last semester so I saw an opportunity.”

“Oh, he’s a first year?” Rin prayed to every god he knew it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Life wasn’t this cruel.

“Oh no, he’s in your grade.” A jolt of panic went through Rin. This couldn’t be happening. “It’s Nanase-kun. When he told me you were pestering him about doing a duet together I couldn’t resist the temptation to make it happen. You’d be a perfect match. Funnily enough, you both played ‘The Tempest’ during your audition. It must be fate. By the way, did you know Beethoven didn’t actually name it that? His biographer Anton Schindler gave it that name. He claimed Beethoven was inspired by Shakespeare’s play when he wrote it. Even if that’s not true, it certainly has a storm-like feel, doesn’t?“ She kept talking; Rin tuned her out.

His private lessons, his sanctuary, were going to be shared with Haru. Haru, who had told Amakata that Rin wanted to play a duet with him. She was probably his regular private teacher because why _wouldn’t_ he be privately tutored by one of the best teachers in the school? He probably had no idea what a privilege it was either. And what did she say about “The Tempest”? They’d both played it? When?

Holy shit. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Haru was the student that made him choose this school. Of course he was. The universe was mocking him. What did Amakata say? “It must be fate”? Well he wanted to meet Fate and give them a piece of his mind.

“Nanase-kun, in here! Oh dear, he can’t hear me, this room is too soundproof. Would you drag him in here, Matsuoka-kun?”

“Uh, yes.” Flustered, he jumped up and went to let Haru inside the classroom. Haru was just standing there, staring at them through the giant windows that looked into the room.

“Get in already,” Rin snapped. A part of him had hoped maybe, just maybe, the opportunity could help make things right between them. Maybe Amakata’s intervention was a blessing in disguise. Then he’d seen Haru’s face and immediately felt pissed again.

“What are you doing here?” Haru whispered at him.

“Apparently you blabbed about me wanting to do a duet with you to Amakata-sensei so now she’s put us in a class together. Great going, Prospero.”

“What? What’s a prospero?”

“Never mind. Just get inside.”

He finally followed Rin inside, looking completely stunned, ignoring Amakata’s greeting as he sat at one of the pianos.

“I thought we could start with a few warm-ups before you two try sight-reading a few pieces I’ve brought. I want to get a feel for how you two work together before I start looking for the right Winter Recital pieces.”

“Winter… Recital?” Haru went pale.

“Yes, Nanase-kun, I want you to perform in the Winter Recital. You’ve run out of excuses. Unless you want to be dropped to the normal major?”

Haru shook his head.

“Fantastic.”

Rin shivered in fear. Everyone forgot to mention Amakata was terrifying.

* * *

“I knew pairing you up would be perfect.” Two weeks later Rin was cursing Haru under his every breath. They’d settled into a cold war; never speaking to each other outside of class. “I no longer cry myself to sleep at night because someone“ — she looked pointedly at Haru — “never pays attention to dynamics and tempo. Looks like Matsuoka-kun’s discipline is rubbing off on you. Good. And playing with Nanase-kun sure has kept you on your toes, Matsuoka-kun. I’m impressed, you’ve made a significant leap forward in only a few lessons. It’s exciting to think about how much more you two can grow.”

Amakata was beaming at them. What she said was true — pairing them up _had_ been a good idea, but not because they were inspiring each other to be better players. Just the opposite — they had entered some kind endless competition trying to prove which one of them was the better player. It started when Rin made more than a few snide comments about Haru’s sloppy playing, mentioning how amazed he was Haru could go so long in a university program without ever once paying attention to a composer’s wishes. That pissed Haru off enough to play at the intended dynamics and without rushing the passages he liked, something that earned praise from Amakata and a shit eating grin from Rin. He then got his revenge by haughtily playing the passages that gave Rin trouble, deliberately showing off how easy they were for him. Rin could only take so much before he was spending his every free moment in the practice rooms, determined to meet Haru’s skills and more. The tension between them was obvious, but if Amakata noticed it she did a good job pretending not to, frequently commenting on how well-matched they were instead.

“You’re a fan of Saint-Saëns right, Matsuoka-kun?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure he’d describe himself as a fan, but he’d played a few of his pieces and enjoyed them.

“Well, I guess—“

“Perfect,” she interrupted, “that will be the first composer you two will play for the Winter Recital. I’ve got just the piece — ‘Caprice Arabe.’ Saint-Saëns was inspired by his travels in North Africa when he wrote it, pulling themes and ideas from the indigenous music he encountered while there.”

“That’s… great,” said Rin.

“And on your behalf Nanase-kun, I’ve chosen Lutosławski’s Paganini Variations. It’s a wonderful piece that will let you bang around your poor piano like you so enjoy. Please look them over before our next lesson and if you can, try playing them together at least once.”

“Okay,” said Rin while Haru meekly nodded.

“Excellent. See you two on Monday,” she said, dismissing them for the day.

Haru took off immediately.

“Hey! Wait up!” Rin shouted at him.

Haru sprinted down the hall. He was, however, not a very fast runner and Rin quickly overtook him, grabbing his wrist to keep him from taking off again.

“What do you think you’re doing? You heard her, we need to meet up this weekend and practice.” Rin tried his best not to sound as pissed and hurt as he felt from Haru’s escape attempt.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” Haru snapped.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re the one that’s been ignoring me.” Did that come out as a whine? He hoped not.

“I have not.”

“You just ran away from me!”

“I like running. I run every day. That’s all.”

“Really? Because I think my grandma could outrun you.”

He shook off Rin’s hand and glared at him. “Fine. When do you want to meet up?”

“Uh… I’m done with tutoring at two on Saturday and have Sunday free.”

“Lets meet on Sunday. You can spend Saturday afternoon looking over it yourself. I don’t want you wasting my time.”

“Hey! You need to cut that shit out. Even if it’s true I’m not on your level, you don’t need to be such a jackass about it.”

“I’ll stop when you stop doing shit like saying ‘your pianissimo is deafening’ when _I’m not even playing_.”

“Fine, I’ll stop,” said Rin.

“Good. I’ll think about stopping too.”

Rin bit his lip to keep from arguing further. Haru refused to make anything easy. “Great. Glad that’s settled. Sunday morning then? We can meet at nine?” — Haru gave him a horrified look — “Eleven? Okay. We can get lunch and come back after if we need to.”

Haru looked strangely pleased. “That’s fine. See you Sunday then.” He slunk off again, disappearing down a corner while Rin wondered if it sounded like he’d asked Haru out on a lunch date. No? Right?

* * *

“No! I don’t want to play anymore. You promised me food.” A dreadful sound came from the piano as Haru leaned against the keys.

“Giving up already?”

“I’m bored and I’m hungry.”

“No, you’re just frustrated about fucking up at bar 47.”

Haru snapped to attention and gave Rin his best “no, you’re the fuckup” stare. “ _You_ messed up at bar 47. You threw off the entire rhythm.”

“You’re right. I should have been more clear, you’re frustrated because you rushed everything from bar 31 onward until it was a complete and total trainwreck. Bar 47 was only the moment it was clear you weren’t even trying to sync up with me.”

There was another smashing sound as Haru pressed down at the keys in annoyance. “You’re too slow,” he said lamely.

“I know, you know, what meno mosso means,” Rin said through gritted teeth.

“Just feed me already.”

“I’m not buying you food, you know that right?”

Haru stared at him like he’d just been shot.

“What, you thought I was buying you lunch? I said we can go out for lunch, not me buy you food.”

“I’m leaving.” Haru started gathering up his sheet music.

“What? Did you only agree to meet me for free food?”

“Don’t have enough money to eat out. Student budget. See you Monday.” He headed to the door.

“Wait! God, I’ll feed you. But I’m not taking you out. You’ll have to eat at my place. I don’t live too far from school.”

“Well hurry up then. Let’s go.” Haru tapped his foot impatiently.

If he killed Haru right now the police would understand, right? No one could send him to jail for ridding the world of someone so insufferable. Maybe he could push him into oncoming traffic on the way to his apartment.

* * *

“It’s not much but it’s home. When I’m at school at least,” Rin said as he let Haru into his apartment. They took their shoes off in the small entranceway and hung up their coats and bags. Haru wandered around the small one room apartment while Rin headed toward the kitchen area.

“You have a lot of CDs,” said Haru.

“Yeah.” That was an understatement. “I have even more back at my mom’s house.”

“What language is this?” Haru asked, picking up a book.

“German. I studied abroad, briefly, in Austria. We spoke English in the program though.”

“How brief?”

“Four years.”

“That’s not very brief.”

Rin gave a pained smile. “I came back to Japan for high school. I mentioned before I played trumpet while in high school, right? That was because after spending four years in Austria I couldn’t look at a piano or violin without feeling sick. So I picked up a new instrument.” Four years of near constant practice and he’d never felt like he was good enough for the program. Everyone else outshone him. They didn’t struggle like he did, didn’t doubt their abilities. He had a double language barrier to deal with; his German skills were nonexistent and his English skills were a joke. He strained himself in every direction just to keep from getting kicked out.

“Why didn’t you just stop playing?”

“I hated how inadequate I was, but that didn’t mean I hated making music.”

“And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you still feel inadequate?”

Rin was taken aback by the question. “I don’t know,” he said. If Haru had asked him a few weeks ago he would have said yes right away. Even a year and a half of playing at a university level hadn’t shaken off the feeling he didn’t belong in the world of classical music. But playing with Haru… it reminded him of why he’d been taken by the idea in the first place. Why he’d sacrificed so much to study abroad. Did he really think he’d be able to play piano for a few years in university and feel satisfied going back to his home town and teach?

“Okay,” said Haru.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I understand. I quit piano in middle school and didn’t start up again until my second year of high school. I haven’t performed in anything since the day I walked off stage in the middle of a competition.” He spoke quietly and without emotion, looking to the side as he spoke.

“Why did you start playing again?” Rin asked softly.

He turned and stared straight ahead at Rin, his gaze unwavering.

“Love.”

“Love?” Rin asked, his heart beating fast.

“I’m in love with the piano.” He smiled mischievously.

On Monday they performed for Amakata. “A little shaky at places, definitely some problem spots for sure, but that’s why I’m here. There is one thing though, I think you should switch parts. Nanase-kun on first piano for the Saint-Saëns and Matsuoka-kun on first for the Lutosławski. It will be more interesting this way.”

“But… that’s not what we practiced,” Rin stammered.

“Interesting, how?” asked Haru.

A menacing aura surrounded her and she made a sound Rin only recognized as laughter by the way her body shook.

“The both of you are too comfortable with your parts at the moment. That’s no good, that’s no good at all. A little suffering is good for the soul.”

Haru and Rin gulped.

* * *

“You’re going to perform in a recital?” Makoto asked again. His disbelief irritated Haru.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m playing a duet with Rin.”

“With… Rin? You’re not fighting anymore?”

“We were never fighting.” Makoto looked skeptical. “Fine. We were fighting. But it’s fine now. I’m going to be fine.”

“Haru…”

“Will you come to the performance?” Haru asked.

“Of course! I’m so proud of you, Haru. We should invite everyone, Nagisa and Rei too.”

“They might be busy with their own performances.” Nagisa wasn’t a music major but he played timpani in one of his university’s orchestras while Rei was an oboe player majoring in conducting.

“Maybe. But I have a feeling Nagisa would be willing to talk his school into rescheduling their performance rather than miss yours.” Makoto chuckled. Haru didn’t see what was so funny — it sounded worryingly possible. “And Rei’s only heard you play a few times. He’ll make it work somehow too, I know it.”

“Hmmm.” Haru just hoped their performance would live up to everyone’s expectations. Switching parts had made things a bit more complicated.

* * *

“We should take a break,” said Haru.

“No. I’ve almost got this it.” He’d spent the last fifteen minutes playing the same twelve bars over and over again.

“It sounds worse each time you play it.”

“Shut up. No it doesn’t.” He started over and immediately messed up. “Okay, maybe it does. Let’s take a five minute break.”

“I meant for today. You’re clearly tired.” If he had to hear Rin play that passage one more time today he was going to whack Rin’s head on the piano until he passed out.

“Not I’m not. I can practice a few more hours easily.”

Haru forced his face to remain neutral. “If you say so. But I can’t. Let’s have dinner and then we can come back and practice until closing hours. I’ll cook this time.”

Rin wrestled with Haru’s offer, turning his head from side to side like he was weighing his options. “Fine.”

Haru’s apartment was much further away from campus than Rin’s, but he didn’t feel the distance because the train practically stopped in his room (it certainly sounded that way when he was trying to sleep).

“You can put your coat on the table over there,” said Haru.

Rin jumped, knocking into him as he stood up. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Haru rubbed at where Rin’s disturbingly hard head had hit him. He didn’t see how “standing behind you” counted as sneaking up on someone, but all right. Rin's overreactions were strangely appealing to Haru; he liked watching him freak out when he paid attention to him. It was cute.

“Do you want grilled mackerel, simmered mackerel, fried mackerel or broiled mackerel?” he asked.

“Gee, they’re all so different I don’t know what to choose. Surprise me.”

Haru nodded. Grilled mackerel then.

“So… are you from Tokyo?” Rin asked. He wandered around Haru’s apartment, staring at the various knick knacks and books Haru had on display. It wasn’t much. A few gifts from friends and a small amount of items that had caught his eye for whatever reason; the rest of his shelves were filled with sheet music and school related books.

“No,” said Haru, “I’m from a small town near Tottori.”

“No fucking way. Me too. I’m from Sano. Though I haven’t lived there in a million years. When I came back from Austria my mom and sister were already living in Tokyo.”

“Oh. I’m from Iwatobi.”

“My grandma lives in Iwatobi. What a small world.”

“Yeah.” A terrible thought crossed his mind. “Did you enter piano competitions when you were living there?”

“Nope.” Haru felt momentarily relieved. “When my dad died we had to move so we gave our piano to my grandma. I could only practice at her place so once I picked up violin I ended up focusing more on that. I entered violin competitions though.”

“I’m sorry,” said Haru.

“Why? Oh, about my dad. I was really young when he died so I don’t remember much about him. He was a musician too. He was in school when my mom got pregnant. He tried playing gigs here and there to make money to support us but after a while he quit and went into fishing like his dad before him.”

Haru didn’t know what to say. He understood now where some of Rin’s anxiety about being a professional must have came from. He knew it wasn’t easy making a living as a musician but money had never been an issue for him. His family wasn’t wealthy but they weren’t starved for money either.

“I think you’re burning the fish,” Rin said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh.”

Haru served them very grilled mackerel with rice. It wasn’t a particularly impressive meal but when Rin complimented his cooking it felt sincere and his stomach did a little flip. They talked a bit while they ate but as the meal went on Rin became quieter, his movements noticeably sluggish. Haru let out a small, silent laugh when Rin closed his eyes for a moment leaned into the table.

“Oops,” Rin said, trying to wake himself up.

“Just lay down, Rin.”

“No, we still have to go back to school and play a bit more.”

Haru rummaged through his closest, looking for a spare pillow and blanket.

“I’m not tired.”

Haru gently guided him down on the pillow. He combed his fingers through Rin’s hair, marveling at how soft it was. Rin’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Just a take a nap then.”

“Well, if you insist.” Rin was deep asleep in minutes, not waking up when Haru walked around his apartment gathering the dishes, or later when he got ready for bed, setting up his futon next to where Rin slept.

It was too early to sleep but he was worried Rin would wake up and drag them back to school. Rin would have to forgive him for tricking him into sleeping over. He really didn’t want to play that damn passage again today.

He added a few more blankets on top of Rin, not wanting him to get cold as the night went on, and crawled into his futon.

“Goodnight, Rin,” he said. He fell asleep to the sound of Rin’s steady breaths.

* * *

Why was his futon so hard? Damn, had he fallen asleep on the floor again? He needed to stop doing that. Strangely, he was covered in blankets when usually he’d wake up in the middle of the night, cold, and then drag himself awake long enough to set up his futon before going back to sleep. Bathroom. He really needed to go.

He opened his eyes and immediately closed them. He’d seen something that didn’t make sense. It was Haru, fast asleep in a futon next to him. He looked very pretty but his hair was a mess. The few times Rin had dreamed of Haru his hair had been perfectly in place.

He opened his eyes again, expecting to be met with his apartment wall but it was still Haru. Was he drooling? Haru would never drool in his imagination.

Wait. No.

The events of last night were coming back to him. He had followed Haru home, ate delicious but slightly burned fish, and then nodded off while Haru covered him in blankets and pushed him down on a pillow. What was in that fish, did Haru drug him? A memory of Haru gently stroking his head made him turn beat red.

He really needed to go the bathroom.

He got out from the under blankets, immediately regretting it when he was hit by a blast of cold air, and slid open the closet door. Other door. Okay. He was a functional human being. He not freaking out because he’d woken up next to his maybe-sort-of crush. It was complicated. Not it wasn’t. He didn’t like Haru at all. He was annoying and irritating and annoying and stubborn and annoying and vexing and… look, no one in their right mind would have a crush on Haru and Rin was a reasonable, logical person that never got caught up in the moment. His reflection side eyed him, which he knew was an illusion but the timing was uncanny.

Maybe his emotions got the better of him. A lot. Often. Always. But that was just more evidence he didn’t like Haru. It was just that occasionally Haru stood too close to him and made him jumpy. That was a normal reaction he’d have to anyone. And sometimes Haru would smile and he’d find himself looking at his lips — that was just a reaction of surprise to seeing him smile. Sometimes he would rest his arm on Haru’s shoulder feel a little lightheaded, but the was, whatever, he only started doing it to irritate him. He hadn’t expected Haru to not pull away from him. So what if lately when he played piano he would start picturing himself with Haru? That didn’t mean anything either. Haru usually was there with him anyway. It was perfectly normal to fantasize about your duet partner. It was all good. Besides, Rin had a crush on the coffee guy, Shou or Noboru or something like that. Yeah. That guy was handsome and tall and made Rin’s coffee just how he liked it. They were meant to be. Any day now Rin was going to work up the courage to ask him out and when he did Noboru (that was probably his name) would declare he’d been in love with Rin since the first time he’d strolled into the coffee shop. They’d get married and open up their own coffee shop and Rin would occasionally play piano for customers. That was a reasonable daydream befitting someone logical like him.

“Rin?” Haru’s voice burst through his imagination. He’d walked into the coffee shop, it had been years since Rin had seen him and his heart sped up at the sight. Haru had become a famous pianist but had decided to take a break because something was missing from his life. By coincidence he’d chosen Rin’s coffee shop, maybe he heard the sound of Rin playing piano as he passed by — it didn’t matter how, but he was here. He didn’t care if Rin was married, he was going to win back Rin’s heart. They would have a passionate affair, or maybe Rin would refuse his advances like a good husband but Noboru would see through him and tell him to follow his heart. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t sure if you’d gone home already. I’ll make breakfast.”

When his footsteps faded, Rin splashed his face with cold water. How dare Haru and his stupidly pretty face and his stupidly beautiful piano playing ruin his romantic fantasies of Noboru, the handsome coffee shop guy. This had to stop.

* * *

“You have a crush on Nanase?” Sousuke shouted in disgust, which was unfortunate since they were in the coffee shop Shou (he’d been so sure it was Noboru) worked in.

“Shh! Keep your voice down. And that’s not what I said. I said maybe, maybe, I’m starting to develop feelings for him.”

“How is that any different from what I said?”

“I don’t like him, not yet, I just think, maybe, it’s heading in that direction,” Rin explained.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re the worst fucking listener.”

“I was listening. You’re just spouting bullshit.” What did Rin do to deserve such a useless best friend?

“It’s like this. If I stopped seeing him I would be fine. I’d forget about him in a few weeks, or months. Someone else would catch my attention. But if I keep meeting up with him almost daily and playing piano with him, I’m gonna be fucked.” After he’d unintentionally slept over at Haru’s place he’d found himself a million times more self-conscious about how much attention Haru paid to him. He would shamelessly watch him, not even bothering to look away when Rin caught him at it or he would hover near him, just close enough that he was invading Rin’s personal space but not enough to justify telling him to back off (as if Rin wanted him to). Rin told himself it was all in his head, which helped him calm down for a few days, but when Gou bumped into them she’d later commented on their “flirting” — giving Rin a mini breakdown until she took it back and lamely suggested maybe it was friendly curiosity on Haru’s part (she offered no insight as to why she’d thought Rin was flirting back).

“So you have a crush on him.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“Have you heard yourself? Maybe you don’t know what a crush is. It’s like this, when two people—”

“Forget it. Talking to you about this is pointless.” Why did Sousuke have to make things simple and more complicated at the same time? He didn’t want to like Haru. He wanted to be friends and duet partners with him. That was more than enough.

“I don’t like him,” said Sousuke, “He was such a little shit at your performance.”

“You agreed with him,” Rin reminded him.

“So? He didn’t have to be so snooty when he told you off.”

Rin rolled his eyes. “Luckily I don’t need your approval about who I date.”

“Oh, so you admit you want to date him?”

“Shut up.” Rin kicked him from under the table.

* * *

Amakata clapped when they finished playing.

“That was beautiful. You’re going to be the stars of the recital. Sasabe-sensei’s little percussion ensemble is going to eat my dust.”

“Thank you, Amakata-sensei,” said Rin.

“Thanks,” said Haru.

In the few months he’d been studying under Amakata, Rin had gotten used to her rivalry with Sasabe Goro, a part-time percussion instructor at the university. Rin had no idea why she’d fixated on him of all people but their rivalry was intense even though their departments had nothing to do with each other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she said.

“See you tomorrow,” they told her. Haru had a class while Rin had a tutoring session to get to. It had become their routine to walk together until Rin had to split off to get to the tutoring center.

“So… big day tomorrow,” said Rin. Their arms occasionally brushed as they walked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Why would I be?”

Rin snorted. “I am, you know. I’m always nervous before a performance.”

Haru stopped and looked at him.

“What?” asked Rin.

“I’m surprised.”

They started walking again; they were nearing where Rin usually said goodbye.

“I used to really mess up when I was kid. I’d panic and freeze up. It was bad. Memorizing everything helped. My body takes over now so at least I don’t stop playing.” That was a trick he’d learned abroad.

“I’m nervous,” said Haru.

“I figured as much.”

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“I’d like to meet them.”

“What if I mess up?”

“We’ll adjust and keep playing.”

“Okay.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Haru,” he said, turning down a corner.

The Winter Recital arrived in a flash. After his classes were done, Rin went home to change into formal wear. He met with Haru outside of the auditorium and did a double take at his appearance. He had tried to style his hair but had succeeding in only flattening it strangely. The sleeves of his jacket were too short and his tie had some kind of ugly singing fish on it and yet Rin’s traitorous heart still skipped a beat when he saw him.

“Here, let me fix your hair.” He ruffled Haru’s hair until he was satisfied Haru no longer looked like he was on his way to a slide rule convention.

“Thanks,” said Haru.

They checked in and were ushered backstage to a large green room with the rest of the night’s performers. A few teachers drifted in and out to say hello to their students. Sasabe came to psych up his percussion ensemble before they went on stage and Amakata briefly wished them luck before leaving to sit in the audience.

Waiting was torture. Usually Rin mingled with everyone backstage, joked with them to help calm his nerves. But walking around and talking to other people while Haru sat immobile, waiting, on a small couch, would have been uncomfortable (Haru, naturally, made no effort to talk to anyone).

“Hey,” asked Rin, “are you all right?”

“Hmm? I’m fine.” Haru went back to staring blankly at a wall, his hands folded together in his lap and his back straight. Excluding the occasional blink and rise and fall of his chest, he could have been a statue.

Rin reached for Haru’s lap and gave his hands a light squeeze.

“I’ve got your back,” said Rin, “You won’t be alone out there. If it helps, just forget about the audience and focus on me.”

Haru looked at him, his eyes sparkling. He had beautiful eyes, the kind that ensnared people once they started looking into them. His dark hair framed them, made their lighter color stand out all the more. Rin moved closer to him, glanced down at his lips.

“Nanase Haruka and Matsuoka Rin, you’re up next,” said a woman holding a tablet.

Rin jumped, snatching his hands back from Haru.

“That’s us,” he said, not daring to look back at Haru.

“Follow me.”

She led them to the wings and told them to go on stage when their names were called by the announcer.

Even without seeing the audience he could feel their energy. He was sure it was a full room — the Winter Recital wasn’t open to everyone like student recitals were. Signing up to play in it meant auditioning or being sponsored by a teacher like Amakata. It attracted a different, more sophisticated audience as a result. It made him a little nervous.

“Rin,” Haru said, startling him, “good luck.” He laced their fingers together. Rin didn’t know if he was merely returning Rin’s gesture from earlier or if it meant something more, but it comforted him nonetheless.

Rin smiled, a wide smile that lit up his whole face. “You too.”

“…played by second-year students Nanase Haruka and Matsuoka Rin.” The audience clapped politely when the announcer was finished speaking.

Two pianos waited for them on stage, nestled across from each other, one with its lid up and the other with its lid removed.

Haru nodded. It was time.

Rin was alone for the start of Lutosławski’s Paganini variations, but not for long. Haru joined in on the second bar, little quips underneath Rin’s sound. Rin played at a higher octave, his sound light and airy. The piece challenged him, forced him to play tricky sections at breakneck speed while staying in sync with Haru.

Haru. Memories of Haru filled his mind. Clashing notes reminded him of how vexing Haru was at first, the way they just couldn’t seem to get along. Always arguing with him, full of pride and unable to admit he needed Rin’s help. A softer section was Haru letting down his walls — the day Rin had first heard him play. The sounds became frantic; Rin remembered how much courage it took to invite Haru to his recital, how Haru had confronted him after, tearing into his weak spot for everyone to see. The sound built up; they were nearing the end. Time was marching on. He was angry at himself for lashing out at Haru, angry that Haru had so easily seen through him. He thought the new semester would be a fresh start. He was running away from Haru, away from having to deal with his future. But Haru kept chasing him.

The piece finished. He took a moment to collect himself, barely registering the audience’s claps. He nodded at Haru, wondered briefly if Haru knew what he had been picturing while he played.

It was Haru’s turn to start; Rin came in at the third bar, the extra sound under Haru’s melody. “Caprice Arabe” started out slowly and carefully, a tentative relationship. They danced around their feelings for each other. Neither of them wanting to break the spell. A small touch here, a meeting of eyes there. As long as they didn’t talk about it they could keep having these small moments. But it wasn’t easy. Both of them wanted more.

The music grew eager. They were playing a dangerous game. Haru held on to his wrist too long. Rin leaned against him when he didn’t need to. They kept testing boundaries, surprised when they didn’t meet any. Haru was sillier than he’d ever anticipated. His apartment was filled with strange knick knacks of mascot characters. He always wanted to eat fish. He had a blanket covered in a musical staff, sections of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony written out on it. When the days started growing colder he wore a keyboard patterned scarf. He was always saying or doing something unexpected. Rin grew more charmed by him by the day.

Their playing complemented each other. Rin’s body and mind were filled with nothing but music. Haru made him feel _everything_. Each note, each rest resonated in him. He was soaring. He knew the audience could feel it too. It was Haru’s power — no, it was _their_ power. Rin had it too. It had taken Haru to show him but it had been there all along. He could touch people’s souls with his music, reach into their heart and show them a sight they’d never seen before.

The piece winded down, asking a question before it finally faded out, a note of hope left behind.

A thunderous applause filled the room. It seemed louder than any applause he’d ever heard before. Everything seemed louder, brighter. He bowed and hurried off stage with Haru by his side.

“Rin,” said Haru, radiant and glowing, “you were amazing.”

“I understand now.”

Haru tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “Understand what?”

“Follow me,” said Rin.

Though they were finished with their performance they weren’t allowed to sit with the audience. They were expected back in the green room. When the recital was over they would go back on on stage with everyone else. The announcer would thank them and everyone else who had made the recital possible.

Rin found a secluded spot near the dressing rooms (unused for this performance). No one would come this way unless they were lost or looking for them.

Haru watched him expectingly, his eyes urging him to get on with it already. Away from the stage, he was beginning to second-guess himself. His courage evaporated. He closed his eyes and tried to recapture the confidence he had while playing.

“You were wrong,” he said, opening his eyes, “I do like teaching. Knowing I’m making a difference in people’s lives is meaningful to me. I couldn’t be miserable doing that. But you were also right. I love playing. I love being on stage. I don’t want to stop doing this. I want to keep playing as long as I can. I thought it would be over when I graduated but it doesn’t have to be. I don’t want to give up on my dreams just yet.” His eyes stung. The truth of what he’d said filled him with anxiety and dread as much as it was freeing. The choice he was making wasn’t easy, but it was the life he wanted. Pretending otherwise was no longer an option.

“I don’t want to give up either. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t walk out during that competition. When Amakata-sensei was our age she was playing concerts in Warsaw, Moscow, Prague… all these places I’ve never been to. But I understand now too. I needed to meet you.” He grabbed on to Rin’s wrists, his grip tight like he was afraid Rin would run away. “You’ve taught me so much, Rin. About music, and about myself.”

Rin’s vision was blurry. “I didn’t do anything,” he said.

“You wanted to play a duet with me.”

He tried to wipe away the tears in his eyes but he couldn’t move his arms. Haru’s grip was too tight. “Who wouldn’t?”

“No one ever pushed me to play with them like you did. They left me alone. Accepted my excuses. You wouldn’t have it.”

“If Amakata-sensei hadn’t stuck us together I would have left you alone.”

“By then it didn’t matter. I wanted to play with you. You were so beautiful on that stage. I wanted to know what you were thinking about in that moment. What sight did you see, Rin?”

Rin blushed. Of all the things Haru could ask, of course it would be something so embarrassing. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

“I came up with this whole story about two people meeting in a dance hall. You know, because a mazurka is a folk dance. They wanted to spend the whole night together but it wasn’t possible. They kept getting split apart.” He didn’t add he’d been picturing himself and Haru. It was embarrassing enough already.

Haru finally let go of him. “How romantic,” he said.

“Shut up.” He wiped away his tears.

“And tonight?”

If his face wasn’t already scarlet it would have been now. At least before it wasn’t obvious he was thinking of Haru while he played. “There were these two idiots, who mostly annoy each other except on a few occasions when they don’t.”

Haru snorted. “Oh, really? Sounds even more romantic.”

“It’s not,” said Rin, “it’s stupid. They’re stupid.”

Haru’s face was inches from his own. Hope coursed through his veins.

“I think I’m in love with you.” The moment of silence before Haru’s answer was more terrifying than anything he’d every experienced. Playing for a panel of judges in front of an audience of thousands would have been less frightening. He fought back the urge to bolt out of there and avoid Haru for the rest of his life.

“I think so too,” said Haru.

“Are you agreeing that I love you, or are you saying you love me?” asked Rin. Of course Haru would remain impossible to the end.

“Both.”

Haru closed the space between them.

When their lips met Rin knew for sure he was definitely, pathetically, hopelessly in love with Nanase Haruka. But that was okay, wonderful even, because Nanase Haruka loved him back. He angled his face a little better, moved his lips experimentally. Haru responded in kind. They were both a little clumsy but they were quick learners and their kisses grew less hesitant. He tried sucking on Haru’s lip. Haru pressed against him, eager. A hand on his waist pulled them closer. Haru’s tongue slipped into his mouth.

Someone coughed. Rin wanted to ignore them, it couldn’t be possible that there was anything more important than kissing Haru, but a small part of his brain was still functioning and telling him to be responsible, so he pulled away. Haru clicked his tongue in irritation. Clearly he did not have a responsible bone in his body.

”The recital is almost over.” It was the woman with the tablet.

“Okay,” said Rin, “we’ll be there in a second.” He was still a little too dazed from kissing Haru to feel embarrassed.

“This is how the dancers in your head must have felt like,” whispered Haru as they walked back.

“Do you have to make it sound so weird?”

“Yes,” said Haru.

Rin playfully bumped their shoulders together as they walked.

“Hold my hand?” Rin asked.

Haru took his hand, saying nothing. He didn’t need to. The soft smile he had on was more than enough for Rin.

* * *

 

Haru shivered. The wind was howling; it looked like a storm was coming. He walked up the stone steps past Makoto’s house, grocery bags in hand, stopping when he reached his front door. The house was dark. He hadn’t seen his parents since obon and it was already late into November.

He turned on the lights and took off his shoes. He unpacked the groceries, thinking about what to make for dinner. He didn’t feel like making anything. He was tired.

The laundry. It was still hanging up outside. His clothes flew around in the wind. He liked how it sounded. The silence inside had been oppressive. Sometimes he went down to the beach and listened to the waves just to get away from the never ending silence.

Thunder rolled in when he got ready for bed. He welcomed it. He wanted to stand in the middle of the storm, surrounded by sound.

A memory tugged at him. There was a word for the kind of violent storm outside his walls. A tempest. Why did he know that word? Oh, there was a piano piece with that name. He wondered what it sounded like. Could it even begin to capture the violence outside?

His desire to know ate him up. Just listening to a piano wasn’t the same as playing it. It would be fine. But it wasn’t. The moment he heard the final movement he ached to play it.

There was a piano in the room that had been his grandmother’s. No one had touched it in years. Just the once, he thought. He would play it once to get it out of his system.

It wasn’t as easy it looked. He fumbled with notes, had to stop a few times, overwhelmed, but it didn’t phase him. He was alive again. He played into the morning, until he was too tired to continue.

Something had changed inside him. He couldn’t go back to the silence. He started playing daily again.

He didn’t know where music would take him. Maybe it would betray him again. But he loved it too much to stay away. He was going to try for now. One step, one note at a time. The future was waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Bby!Haru plays "Bachianas brasileiras No.4, W264, 424" by Heitor Villa-Lobos in the performance he messed up. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1Emge2-4AM
> 
> 2) Specifically Haru and Rin play the third movement of "The Tempest." See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfjD-DQ5REk
> 
> 3) "Suggestion Diabolique" by Sergei Prokofiev. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45mXvaIW02c
> 
> 4) Saint-Saëns himself “playing” Mazurka No. 1. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UJfkJdMZzw
> 
> 5) Lutosławski’s Paganini Variations. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1NnNLJbISI
> 
> 6) Not the best recording "Caprice Arabe" but still. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3IIOUV2sxk
> 
> Bonus: Haru's Tie: http://i.imgur.com/Mjikldt.jpg
> 
> ALSO for the record, Makoto did not quit because of Haru. He quit because of a much more mundane reason. The twins had just been born and practicing cello became impractical at home (his mother struggled enough getting them to both sleep; she didn't need Makoto waking them up with a cello). After that he fell behind and then once Haru quit he didn't feel particularly motivated to pick it up again. Related, Sousuke isn't injured enough to not play. It's just the demanding amount of practice a professional musician needs that's now impossible for him. Playing for more than maybe an hour at a time quickly becomes extremely painful.


End file.
